


The Adventures of Cobra Inc.™

by homesickinspace



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homesickinspace/pseuds/homesickinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the realm of band members with extravagant superpowers, Cobra Starship were very un-superpowered. But how could they help out their friends? </p><p>This answer came in the form of Cobra Incorporated, a help office for their superpowered friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Encounter of the Young Bloods (Part 1)

The odd thing about people with superpowers was that it seemed that only people in bands got them. Or, at least, the bands in the general pop-punk scene got them. Of course, there were exceptions to this. One of the key bands was Cobra Starship, their poor neon-coated souls. It wasn't like they "lost" their powers in some grand scheme, although Gabe wished it had due to the "sick street cred we'd have". No, for some unknown reason, they were super-unpowered. Yet, through a collective decision brought up by Nate, they stayed in the scene.

Their idea was Cobra Incorporated, colloquially abbreviated to Cobra Inc.™, ("That, is way too long," Victoria had said, adding the period.) a sort of headquarters for their superpowered friends. Was it very professional? No, not really. But, by default, they were the best at what they were doing. Thus, the Cobra Crew was made, and the both unofficial and official "superhero" help office opened its doors.

* * *

When it came to the amount of business that the Cobra Inc.™ received on the day to day business, Monday was the most unpredictable. For the most part, the other six days of the week didn't have much of a range of customers, but Mondays always had either no one or the most important people. Barely any in between.

Victoria, Gabe, and Ryland were the ones who ran the front of the office. It wasn't a very big building, but it had the perfect amount of room to conduct business on the ground floor and live somewhat comfortably in the basement (contrary to popular belief, it wasn't warmer in the basement, but they all liked the crisp, cool air down there). The front of the building, however, didn't elude to what actually went on behind the walls. It was masqueraded as a rickety tattoo shop, conveniently named Cobra Ink. As there were no windows showcasing the inside, at that needed to be done was to hang up a sign and plaster the glass door with tattoo designs, courteously donated by Gerard from the Killjoys. The door had a permanent 'Sorry, we're closed!' sign, which did the trick of any passer-by accidentally believing the sign.

The other two members of the crew, Alex and Nate, preferred to stay in the back of the building. It wasn't that they didn't like the people who came in, no, it was the fact that Alex was very good at running the actual operations of Cobra. Plus, he enjoyed Nate's company, so there was that.

The bell, attached to the front door, went off, the noise drawing the other three's attention to the door. And, oh my god, it was the Young Bloods. Their band was Fall Out Boy, of course, but around the 'super scene' as Gabe named it, they were the Young Bloods. Well, at least today, it was three-fourths of the Young Bloods. Pete, Joe, and Andy strolled into the building, clearly missing their fair-haired singer Patrick. Gabe got up from his lounge chair, quickly enveloping Pete in a hug.

"Dude, what's up?" Gabe said, happiness overflowing through his voice. He and Pete went way back, ever since Pete signed Cobra to his label, and they had been close friends ever since.

"Papi!" Pete said, returning the hug. He flashed a signature Wentz smile, but his face returned to it's previously concerned expression. For the most part, he always had a concerned look on his face, but now it screamed of it.

Gabe could tell, as well as Victoria and Ryland, that something was wrong. Whatever it was, it must have been pretty serious. Besides parties, or the occasional get together, the Young Bloods never visited. They never needed to, really. Patrick was their glue of sorts, holding the band together in harmony. But with Patrick no where in sight, maybe that's why the other three were there, looking upon the three Cobras.

"Maybe we could, uh," Pete said. His thought trailed off, he instead gestured to the door leading to the main portion of the building.

"Yeah, of course," Ryland said, a sincere smile gracing his lips. He was always charismatic with his customers, apparently Pete and his gang were no different. With a quick opening of the back door and a short walk through the hallway, the six entered the main part of the building: the office.

Everyone in Cobra knew that it wasn't the most high-tech space that they could possibly have. What the space lacked in professionalism, however, it picked up for in character. The (rather thin) brick was splayed on the walls, plastered with the free posters they had accumulated over the years from their friends. Their was a "consultation" area, as Gabe coined it: two love seats parallel to each other, additional bean bags if the band had many members, with a coffee table in between, almost to act as a piece offering between the two groups. The research was done in the right side of the room, as opposed to the left for the "consultation" space. That was home to a couple of computer desks, two with computers graciously donated by Paramind as a welcome gift. Along with the computers were two tall filing cabinets. They contained tabs and folders on pretty much anyone in the super scene. Dates of birth, superpowers, affiliations with other people: basically, all of the important topics. Files were also kept on separate groups, as sometimes there are elaborate organizations and gangs and, well, Nate and Alex were too lazy to keep _that_ many files on people.

The both of them got up from their seats on the couch to greet the incomplete group of the Young Bloods. Quick greetings were shared and soon, the Cobras and the Young Bloods were sprawled on the two love seats.

"So," Alex said, "why are you guys here? Usually you seem to have things under control, er, at least most of the time." He grabbed a random notebook, thumbing through its pages until a blank one appeared. Nate had tucked a black pen behind his ear, which Alex grabbed. He had to write down notes, well, he didn't _have_ to, per say. He just liked to, to get all of the facts from what whoever's talking down on paper. He was almost like a therapist, in that regard. He asked questions, everyone else just answered them.

"Well, we kinda have a problem," Pete began with an exasperated sigh. "You see, Patrick's missing." This brought small gasps from the Cobras. Patrick was very loved, so anything bad that happened was unsettling to them. Alex remained composed, however, and wrote down a quick note,

"Well, you have telepathy, right?" Gabe cut in. He was right; Pete's superpower was telepathy. He liked to use it to disrupt work at Cobra Inc.™, mostly Gabe, but he could talk to anyone through the power of superpowered thoughts. It's rumored, too, that he could hypnotize people with his thoughts and words, but no one knew for sure. Not even Pete knew, so the rumor was shrouded in mystery. "Why don't you try to communicate with him?"

"But that's the thing," Pete said, frustration leaking through his voice. "Like, I should be able to talk to Patrick, but I just ... can't, and it's killing me. Like, what if he's hurt? I just-"

"Hey, hey," Ryland interrupted, reaching over the coffee table to comfort the bassist. "We're here to help. We'll make sure that Patrick is alright. It's our job, y'know."

"Thanks," Pete said, a smile on his face again.

"So, does Patrick have any superpowers?" Alex asked. "I remember his file having a blank spot there." Pete looked hesitant. Joe and Andy did as well.

"We, uh" Pete rambled. "We-"

"We think he does, but Patrick refuses to officially say it," Andy said.

"Why do you think that?" Alex asked, scratching down notes.

"Well, have you heard his voice? It's unhuman as to how good he is," Pete said quickly, almost abruptly.

"Yeah, I mean, we all think he's a fantastic singer, like there's no doubt about that, but do you think singing good can be classified as a superpower?" Gabe asked. "Like, Brendon's a great singer, but we all know that his superpower is-"

"But it's not that!" Pete said, cutting Gabe off. He then looked embarrassed for a second before fishing through his pockets. What he was looking for was his phone, which he quickly put down on the table. "Like, just listen to this." Pete said, selecting a song on full volume. The Cobra Crew expected Pete to play something from Fall Out Boy or maybe even Patrick's solo career but oh no, this was something they had never heard before.

The song was, in fact, only Patrick; a full fledged a capella song. His voice was simply breathtaking, his range was exquisite. It was so good, in fact, that it put everyone into a trance. No, seriously. The lyrics seemed to blended until it was all just Patrick, and they wanted to be wherever Patrick was right now. To the eight people in the room, it was very supernatural. Patrick's voice shouldn't be able to do this, to be able to seemingly hypnotize someone without even sounding a bit strained, but yet Patrick was. The song ended after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality it was only a few minutes long. Silence soon filled the air.

"That was uh. Wow," Gabe said finally. "You said Patrick hasn't said he has a superpower?"

"Uh, yeah. Like, one of us would always bring it up and he'd be like 'no no, I don't have any' and I mean, we'd all just believe him, but now ... I'm not sure," Pete said. It was a solid minute before someone said something.

"Well, do you have any hypotheses for what happened to Patrick?" Alex asked, flourishing his thought on paper with a flick of his wrist.

The boys unanimously shook their heads no. Well then. The question was worth a try, at least. Alex wrote down a question mark and quickly closed the pad of paper he was writing on.

"Well, at least for now, it looks like we're done here," Alex said, placing the notepad and pen on the table. Everyone stood up and, after a quick reassurance from Ryland ("And try not to worry about Patrick, we'll have it under control!"), the Young Bloods exited Cobra Ink, leaving the Cobra Crew thoroughly shaken up on a Monday morning.

 


	2. The Encounter of the Young Bloods (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, when the afternoon sun hit the exterior of Cobra Inc.™ beautifully, the reality of the situation at hand finally hit the members of the Cobra Crew. Well, if not all of them, than at least it hit Gabe.

The next day, when the afternoon sun hit the exterior of Cobra Inc.™ beautifully, the reality of the situation at hand finally hit the members of the Cobra Crew. Well, if not all of them, than at least it hit Gabe.

He was currently sprawled across one of the love seats upstairs, scrolling nonchalantly through his twitter feed. Why did he finally realize that Patrick could be in danger then? No one knew. But Gabe certainly realized that Patrick was hiding something, if the song that Pete played earlier was any indication. When you don't tell your own band members that you can do something like that, and even denying that you could do it in the first place, then Gabe couldn't fathom what Patrick could be hiding in return. Maybe Patrick was hiding something better, or worse - take your pick - than his voice. The thought of that worried Gabe greatly, because if that was the case, then...

Patrick could be much more than any of them bargained for.

While Gabe was preoccupied in his own thoughts, Alex sat at his desk in the opposite side of the room. In front of him was Patrick's files, now changed from the information learned earlier that day. Patrick Martin/Vaughn Stump (Stumph on his birth certificate), truly a remarkable guy. All of that voice in a 5'4" body. Incredible, really; it could be argued to be supernatural in essence. That brought Alex's focus back to trying to figure out Patrick. Or, at least, his superpowers.

So far, the most conclusive power possibility was Patrick being part siren, the ancient mermaid-like creatures who could lure people to their death through their voices. Patrick didn't look like the type of guy to kill anyone, nor did he have a tail, so far as Alex knew, so it was a pretty far stretch. But it was the closest thing he had so far, so whatever. Nate then walked into the room from the stairs originating from the basement, his laptop tucked under his room. His presence brought a smile to Alex's previously serious face.

"Hey, I think I found something," Nate said. This peeked the curiosity and attention from Alex and Gabe, the latter which had looked over the edge of the couch. Nate sat down on the arm rest of the couch the Uruguayan was laying on, then motioned for Alex to join. He did, and soon the three of them were sitting on the couch. They watched Nate pull up a video from the internet: unlisted, from a vague username, and uploaded three years ago.

"Alright, so I found this video, and wait until you see Patrick sing in it," Nate explained, pressing play. The video began and wouldn't you know it, it was the same song they had all heard earlier. Nate turned down the sound quickly, however, and he paused the video on Patrick, a profile view of him singing. It looked fairly normal, but the yellow tint to the usually aquamarine color of his eyes was startling, to say the least.

"He looks fuckin' pissed," Gabe said hesitantly, almost quietly. He was right, with the tautness of Patrick's jaw and the furrow in his brow, the singer looked mad. Beyond mad, even.

"Do you think that's why his eyes are like that?" Alex asked, well, more thought out loud. He wasn't expecting an answer, really.

"What power would that even be classified as?" Nate asked. They all stared at the still frame on the computer screen.

"Wait, skip to the end of the video," Alex said, gently nudging Nate's elbow. Nate did that, and the screen now showed Patrick finishing the last note of the song, progressively tilting his head back from his microphone to prevent feedback. And, when he reached over to whatever was recording him, Nate paused the video on the singer's face. Content expression, no sign of the yellow hue his eyes were before: nothing that would indicate the angry look his face had before.

Gabe noticed this, swearing in native language under his breath. "Is he-"

"Oblivious?" Alex finished. "Yeah, I think he is." He let out a sigh, running his hands through his brown hair. They all were equally distraught at the video. If Patrick was completely unaware, or at least it looked as if he was, of his powers, then what was he aware of?

Ryland and Victoria, who had previously been hanging out in the basement, walked in on the other three members of the Cobra Crew, all of them looking worried.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Ryland asked. He sat partially on top of, partially next to Gabe. Victoria joined from behind the couch.

Nate proceeded to explain what he had found and its importance, Alex and Gabe nodded at the appropriate moments.

"And basically," Nate said, closing the lid of the laptop. "We need to find Patrick. He could be _way_ more powerful than any of us know, and he might be in danger for it."

"Yeah, he's right," Alex added, standing up from his seat. Nate followed suit, after Alex said, " We're gonna do some more research." They went back into that corner of the room, leaving Victoria's attention focused on Gabe.

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air, okay? It's just a bit stuffy in here," She said, shifting up from the couch. Gabe and Ryland nodded in response. Once outside, Victoria took in a deep breath, appreciating how the air was beginning to get a cool edge to it. The fabric had bunched up weirdly on her Cobra Inc.™ t-shirt, identical to everyone else's "merchandise", although no one ever bought their stuff. As she was straightening the folds on her t-shirt, she heard a light sound of compressed air. More specifically, the sound of a spray can. She turned the corner, now facing the alley which enveloped the left side of Cobra Inc.™ and the neighboring pizza place next door.

And, if her eyes weren't deceiving her, there was a girl vandalizing their building's brick wall with black and white spray paint. She was dressed in all black and leather and, if Victoria recalled right, the girl was Leighton Meeser, the girl Cobra collaborated with all of those years ago.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Victoria asked, loud enough that the spray of paint came to a sudden halt. A quick flash of her caramel hair and the alley exploded with a 'bang' and a bombardment of smoke. Once the smoke dissipated and the ringing left Victoria's ears, all that was left in the alley she stood in was the plastic taste the smoke bomb left it her mouth.

"Oh my god! Are you alright?" Came Gabe's voice, followed by the sound of foot steps coming towards Victoria.

"What happened?" Alex asked, stepping further into the alley.

"There was this girl ... and she ran away," Victoria said, "I think it was Leighton? But I'm not sure."

"Really?" Gabe asked, a smirk forming on his face. "God, I haven't seen her in forever. I wonder if-"

"Wait!" Alex exclaimed, stepping away from the brick wall. "You guys gotta look at this." The other four joined Alex, facing the defaced property now sprayed onto their building.

Oh no. No, this wasn't good.

"I wear the crown but am no princess," Nate read, "1515 Broadway 50B, Death Valley, California." Underneath that was a picture of Patrick, and the empty aerosol can dropped next to the message. One could almost see the gears clicking into place in Alex's head.

"Fuck ... wait, wait, I recognize, that," Alex said, half-walking-half-running back inside Cobra Inc.™, dragging Nate with him. Out of confusion and concern, the other three followed close behind.

Alex and Nate went straight to the filing cabinets. They went to the villains cabinet, the A-L drawer and ah, there it was!

The Love Cult, ran by the titular Courtney Love. A group, er, cult that was a collection of girls that could kick any of the Cobra Crew's asses, winged eyeliner in tact. Yet, their main goal was to kidnap and torture, possibly even kill, musicians in the Super Scene for, well, Alex didn't know why. Their lack of superpowers collectively was their biggest vice, making the Love Cult even with Cobra Inc.™ in that regard.

Panic consumed Alex's thoughts. Patrick was in a very compromising state; they needed to get to the Love Cult's base before anything worse happened.

Nate reached for the five small drawstring bags which were hung up from the hooks on the wall. They were for incase "we were about to get out asses kicked because we're, like, the only people without superpowers" as Gabe said. The bags contained assorted superpowered goodies, things that would be helpful if needed, donated by Paramind. Well, it took a bit of bartering for the gadgets, as they offered their services for it, but they were high-quality things, made by Taylor York himself.

A rechargeable blast of hyper-compressed air which could knock down most doors; small capsules which held life-saving doses of medicine; a small screen which could map out any building one was in; a Swiss army knife for good measure: Taylor certainly had outdone himself.

But, that wasn't important right now. What was important, however, was to getting to Death Valley.

"Hey, get Pete and them on the phone and over here," Alex said to no one in particular, nearly slamming the file drawer closed.

"Okay, may I ask why?" Ryland asked, tapping his phone's screen.

"Because," Alex said with an determined grin, "we're gonna get Patrick back."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter should be pretty exciting!! follow arctichurley . tumblr . com if u wanna know more about me!!!


	3. The Encounter of the Young Bloods (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The general mood of Cobra Inc.™, accompanied by three-fourths of the Young Bloods, was a mix of panic and ambition. Truthfully, they were scared of what awaited them. But there was no time for hesitation: their friend was in danger.

The general mood of Cobra Inc.™, accompanied by three-fourths of the Young Bloods, was a mix of panic and ambition. The heat of the Californian sun beat down on their necks. While the Cobra Inc.™ headquarters was located in New York City, their journey only took the blink of an eye, due to Joe's power of teleportation.

Love Cult's base was a warehouse, standing out starkly against the arid desert that was Death Valley. Gabe and the rest of his group for the day were staking out the building, hiding behind a stranded truck. The truck, conveniently, was left next to an air duct opening, allowing easy access to the interior of the building. Truthfully, they were scared of what awaited them. But there was no time for hesitation: their friend was in danger.

Alex slipped one of the plethora of gadgets out from the drawstring bag slung on his back. A mapping device, where it would maneuver around whichever space you put it in, really.

“Alright, I need some help with the grate,” Alex whispered. The mentioned grate was the only piece of metal keeping them from going inside.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Andy said in the same tone. They were trying to keep quiet, a preventative in case one of the girls from inside decides to come out. Andy crawled – they were behind a truck, after all – to the air vent system. His superpower, along with bursts of pyrokinesis, was super strength. It was always a spectacle to see, when Andy used his powers, because the tattoos covering the expanse of his skin glowed a dull white color. The glow began on the drummer's back, stretching out to his neck, arms, and legs. The grate popped off with a 'clang', and Andy placed it gently next to the opening of metal. It was ironic, really, that Andy could quite literally rip a person's head from their shoulders, yet was a true sweetheart.

Alex then turned on the little device – a small rover with a tracking device equipped to it – and threw it into the vent, where it continued on its trek into the building.

After that, it was a matter of waiting. Pete, being the restless fucker he is, kept jittering his leg next to Gabe. He twitched his head around as if he was a bird. Gabe placed a hand on the others knee, currently twitching a spastic beat. A friendly touch, really.

“Was I twitching again?” Pete asked, his tan skin blushing slightly. The other nodded,

“It's fine, though. S'expected. We're all pretty nervous about this," Gabe said with an exhale. Silence filled the space between the eight. After all, they knew what was at stake here. Patrick, in fact, was at stake. And if something happens to Patrick, then-

The rover came wheeling back from the air vent.

"Finally," Alex said with a slight smile. The other seven leaned in expectantly toward Alex. With the flick of a switch, Alex projected the recorded layout of the warehouse.

Luckily, the device also projected where each person was in the building. It appeared that most of the girls were in one room, off in the opposite corner that the eight were in.

"I think that's Patrick," Ryland chimed in, pointing at a holographic person, tied down to a chair in the middle of one of the rooms. The air ducts lead straight to the room, which was convenient.

"Alright, so for a game plan," Alex said, leaning back on his heels.

"I think that, y'know, we all should go," Gabe said. He gestured to all of the Cobra Crew. "And we should take Joe with us, so that Andy and Pete can stand guard outside."

Pete looked like he was going to say something in return, but decided against it.

"Sound good?" Alex said, standing up. Everyone agreed. "Then let's do this." 

Inside the air ducts, the air was musky with the scent of mold. But what were they to expect: no one in their right mind would have wanted to go in the cramped space. The six of them crawled slowly, single file, Alex first in the line. Thankfully, the air ducts were on relatively the same level. Alex followed the holographic map the device provided.

"Alex?" Gabe asked, voice just above a murmur.

"Mmm?" Alex asked in return.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Yeah, at least I-"

Alex was cut off a blood curdling scream. It sounded like Patrick. So loud that it vibrated the metal of the shaft.

"Shit!" Victoria exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"C'mon," Alex said. Their pace quickened. They followed the source of the noise, didn't bother to stop when the metal creaked. A minute later, they came across a much wider, much taller, section of air vent. To the left, there was a grate leading ... well ... somewhere.

A scream came from the room just beyond the grate. This time much louder, of course. The voice shot through them like a shock of electricity. The Cobra Crew scuttled to the grate. Joe stayed back from it.

"I don't think I can look at it," Joe said, "It's my friend, y'know. I don't wanna see him in pain."

"Yeah, that's fine," Alex said. His focus, along with the others, went to the view from the grate.

It lead to a room, fairly small, bare concrete for the floors and walls. The center of attention was Patrick. He was tied to the chair he sat on, thick rope around his torso and lower legs, fastened with a lock. Handcuffs held his hands together behind his back. Maybe Andy could break out of those bonds, but Patrick definitely couldn't.

Patrick looked like a wreck. An angry wreck, mind you. Blood stained his usually fair complexion. His t-shirt was ripped around the collar. Rope burn was visible on his arms, where the skin on his arms was trapped under the rope.

Frankly, he looked pissed. Er, something beyond pissed at this point, probably. Beyond the level of anger any of them had seen before: even beyond the point in which they saw in the video. From the profile view that the Cobra Crew saw the renowned sweetheart of the Young Bloods, it was rather terrifying.

"Should we try to...?" Victoria asked. She jostled the grate in front of all of them. The sound of creaking metal echoed through the air vent. Patrick's head snapped toward them. His eyes were a bright yellow orange, illuminating the surrounding skin on his face. His face was toxic with anger: a narrowed eyed, chiseled jaw, scowl lipped, furrowed brow face of pure rage.

"Is that you, Gabe?" Patrick asked, voice low and rough around the edges. His face softened into confusion.

"Yeah, it is!" Gabe said, just loud enough for Patrick to hear. Gabe avoided looking at the other man's face - the yellow eyes were unsettling - and continued. "Listen, we're here to get you out of here, ya? So we're gonna try to-"

A door opened, too far off for any of them to see. Gabe stopped talking. Patrick turned his head back to his original position, the anger returning to his face.

In walked one of the members of the Love Cult, accompanied by two rather stacked body guards.

"Courtney wanted you to have some company. Enjoy!" The girl said. She bowed and went behind the two men. "Don't try escape, these guys are pretty strong and could hurt you pretty bad, and we wouldn't want that, right?"

Patrick nodded. The Cobra Crew were surprised to see Patrick being so cooperative. In fact, he looked incredibly angry, why wasn't he doing anything?

The door closed, leaving Patrick with the other two men.

"Why are you guys even here?" Patrick asked, rolling his wrists inside his constraints. "I thought I could handle myself?"

Gabe then noticed something about Patrick. Gabe nudged his elbow into Alex.

"Look. His hands," Gabe said, barely audible in Alex's ear. Alex shifted his gaze from Patrick's face to his hands. They were ... glowing? Yeah, his eyes weren't deceiving him, Patrick's hands were glowing the same yellow as his eyes where the veins were under his skin.

Creak. Click.

The handcuffs fell off of Patrick's hands. The five of them collectively drew back a sharp breath.

"How did he do that?" Nate asked, previously silent throughout all of this.

"I have no clue," Alex said, watching Patrick intently. Patrick shifted again, holding the disconnected handcuffs in his hand. He exhaled.

Click.

The lock holding the rope together fell. The guards noticed this.

"What are you doing?" One asked. The guards came toward Patrick. One raised a hand, as if he was going to hit the singer.

A gargled sound. The guard launched toward the grate. They missed the piece of metal just barely.

Victoria cursed loudly. The remaining upright guard looked straight at the grate. Fuck, they were about to be caught. The man strode toward the grate. The six of them - Joe had joined the group at the commotion of the man being existentially thrown by someone - backed away from the grate.

"Hey!" Patrick yelled. He was now upright ("When did that happen?""I don't know, Gabe."), fully mobile from his restraints.

The guard launched at Patrick. The six in the air vent were expecting a punch landing square in the pretty face Patrick had. What they weren't expecting, however, was Patrick to swing first. He did, and boy, could he throw a punch. A spray of blood landed on his fist. The body guard was knocked back. Alex's thought of Patrick not being able to kill someone was probably wrong if what was happening in front of him meant anything.

Patrick stood still for a minute. His chest heaved as he took in deep breaths.

Well, the Cobra Crew were right. Patrick was, in fact, way more powerful than any of them would have guessed. In the second of free silence they had, Alex's head was reeling. Okay, so Patrick did have superpowers. That was certain. The extent of his powers, however, was not. It appeared that he had telekinesis, the power to move things just by thought, but the yellow eyes? Alex didn't know what that meant.

"Patrick!" Gabe said suddenly. Patrick looked as if he was about to faint. "Just come here and we can get you to our base, sí?"

Patrick did just that. He kneeled in front of the grate. He flicked his wrist and the metal sheet pulled apart from the air vent. This still shocked the rest of them, but suddenly, Patrick's body went limp.

"Shit," Joe said. He raced toward the vent as Patrick fell through it. Joe caught the man, who was thoroughly unconscious. Red light and an alarm rang through the building, they must have found out about Patrick. One of their hands latched onto a part of Joe and they all were teleported out of the warehouse.

The change of scenery was jarring, but that wasn't important. What was, however, was finding Andy and Pete.

"Patrick!" Pete exclaimed. He raced toward the group, Andy trailing closely behind. With the nine of them reunited, Joe teleported back to Cobra Inc.™, leaving the scorching Californian sun to bake the Love Cult's base.

* * *

 

It took a couple of hours for Patrick to wake up from his unconscious state. Only at around midnight did Patrick stumble out from the guest bedroom he was placed in into the living room with a groggy, "What happened?"

Everyone quickly hugged him, Pete lingering a bit, and Patrick sat down in one of the multiple bean bags scattered in the small basement living room. His wounds were now healed, as Alex connected the healing device he had to Patrick while he was knocked out. The grime from whatever happened to the man, however, still remained.

"Nah, but seriously," Patrick said with a smile, "what happened? I can't remember a thing."

"Seriously?" Gabe asked. Patrick nodded his head. "Well, let me tell you ..."

Gabe proceeded to tell the story of how they found Patrick ("Like, bro, I thought I was dreamin' or something when I saw your yellow eyes!"), and how he proceeded to beat the shit out of the two body guards there ("You went all batshit crazy on them, like the first guy got sent flying toward us without you even touching him!")

Patrick stared at Gabe, mouth agape.

"I did all of that?" He asked, voice sounding small.

"Yeah, you kinda did," Pete said.

"God...I mean, I didn't even know I could do that," Patrick said. "I mean, yeah, I kind of knew about the voice thing, but-"

"Wait, you knew about that?" Pete asked. Patrick's cheeks blushed a light pink.

"Yeah? I mean, that's _why_ I didn't want to be Fall Out Boy's singer at first," Patrick began, "I knew that my voice did weird stuff when I sang. But when you guys and everyone liked it, it boosted my confidence. And yeah." Alex grabbed a piece of paper off of the couch's side table and wrote this down.

"And the yellow eyes?"

"I have no idea," Patrick said, serious. "Same with anything that happened in that warehouse."

"Like, I went to bed one night and the next thing I knew, I was being punched in the face by this girl, and she had these bronze knuckles, but after that..."

"You don't remember anything," Alex finished. Patrick nodded. Well, that didn't solve much.

"Well, from what we saw," Nate said, sitting up straighter on his bean bag. "It looked like you had telekinesis back there."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Patrick asked.

Alex thought about this. No one else, at least that he knew of, had the power to move things with their mind. The closest person was Brendon, but he could only move objects with the sound waves his voice produced. But pure control over objects without a vessel of sorts to do it by? That, that was unheard of. But since Patrick didn't _know_ about the presumably inherent power, Alex didn't know if Patrick could do it again.

"Can you, uh," Alex said. He made a waving hand gesture.

"Yeah! Or, at least I could try," Patrick said. He began to look for a something to use his possible telekinesis on, humming an incoherent song. It was incredible, really, because even just his humming started to produce the hypnotic qualities it had before. Patrick finally found something - a small pen from one of the side tables - and placed it about a foot in front of him, onto the faux wood floors.

Patrick stared intently at the barrel of plastic and ink, leaning forward slightly. The longer he stared, Alex noticed the outer rims of Patrick's eyes fade from their blue-green color to yellow. This worried him. The last time he saw Patrick with yellow eyes, he knocked two bulky body guards unconscious with barely any strain, so-

The pen quite literally flew at Patrick, who grabbed it with ease.

"Woah," Gabe said. Patrick looked up at him, innocent looking, through his thick eyelashes. The yellow rings encompassing his irises faded in mere seconds.

"Well, I think that settles that," Ryland said, leaning over to pat Patrick on the back. "You should go get some more sleep, man. You've been though a lot recently."

Patrick nodded and stood up. He clambered back to the bedroom he was in previously, leaving the Young Bloods with all of their members in tact and Cobra Inc.™ with the satisfaction of a successful mission completed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaa so that's the end of this story arc!! if u have any suggestions for what u wanna see in the future, hit me up in my ask box @ arctichurley . tumblr . com / ask !!


	4. Northern Downpour (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rain began to perpetually soak all of New York City the day after the incident at Love Cult's base. The gray and drizzly atmosphere, coupled with the lack of customers, drove the Cobra Crew to mainly stay inside.

Rain began to perpetually soak all of New York City the day after the incident at Love Cult's base. The gray and drizzly atmosphere, coupled with the lack of customers, drove the Cobra Crew to mainly stay inside. Along with them in the building were Patrick and Andy of the Young Bloods. Patrick, because he needed help with his powers, and Andy, just because.

Gabe was sprawled across the length of the couch in the basement’s living room, his legs enveloping Ryland’s lap. Patrick sat cross-legged on the floor, beyond the small coffee table separating them. Along with Patrick was Andy, who sat parallel to the fair-haired man. He was trying to help Patrick find his … something.

“So you see,” Andy said, “it’s all about focus at first. You gotta just get in the right mindset, y’know?” He exhaled slowly, controlled. In front of both him and Patrick was a spare phonebook, outdated by a good decade. The white glow began again on Andy’s tattoos, crawling down to his fingertips. He picked up the thick phone book loosely. A shredding sound emanated through the room.

"Wow, um, okay," Patrick said, eyes wide. Andy let go of the now split phonebook and placed the halves towards Patrick.

"I don't really see the point in all of this focus bullshit," Gabe whispered into Ryland's ear.

"Yeah, neither do I," Ryland responded. "Let me get up, I wanna get something to eat." Ryland swatted at the other's lanky legs, Gabe moving them in response. As Ryland stood up, he took notice to the yellow hue leaking into Patrick's irises as he stared intently at one of the phonebook halves. Ryland wasn't swayed by this, however, and continued into the kitchen.

"Getting anywhere, 'trick?" Gabe asked, this time loud enough for Patrick to hear. He scowled and looked up at Gabe.

"Maybe I would if you didn't keep interrupting me," Patrick said. Gabe then noticed the yellow that Ryland notice previously, only now it had nearly consumed all of his irises. Patrick flicked his wrist towards him.

A throw pillow, before on the ottoman in the corner of the room, hit Gabe strongly on the side of his face. It occurred so quickly that he only realized Patrick did it after the pillow hit his face and onto his lap.

"Hey, you did it!" Andy said with glee.

"Yeah, he fuckin' hit me in the face," Gabe grumbled, tossing the pillow to the floor. Patrick shook his head, as if he was confused.

"Wait, what?" Patrick asked. He again looked at Gabe. Now, the yellow was completely gone.

"You hit me in the face with this," Gabe said, shaking the pillow for emphasis.

"Oh, I ... I don't remember doing that," Patrick said, a light blush of embarrassment crawling his cheeks.

"But it just happened-"

"Yeah, I know. But I just..." Patrick trailed off. "I didn't do that. It felt like someone else..."

This alarmed Gabe, to say the least. He knew that the weird shit was just going to keep coming. There was no use to asking anymore questions, it would muck up the thoughts in Gabe’s head even more. He, rather reluctantly, got up and headed for the kitchen.

The living room connected to the kitchen through a wooden archway. The furnishings and appliances weren’t grand, yet they got the job done. A fridge and freezer combo; a stove and oven with one rack broken from the time when Gabe nearly burnt the headquarters down; counters with faux marbled tops; a sink that didn’t have its handles yet still worked, and a pantry in the corner.

Nate was the main chef for the Cobra Crew. While he couldn’t necessarily cook a Michelin-star meal, he could make a mean grilled cheese, which was a plus. He could make other things too - hamburgers, steak, hot dogs - pretty much any stereotypical American meal. Nate, accompanied by Victoria and Ryland - Alex was probably sleeping - were in the kitchen.

“Ah, just the person we needed!” Victoria exclaimed, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Uh, why?”

“We need milk, we’re out,” Nate said. He opened the fridge door, revealing the empty space where cartons of low-fat and soy (for Andy) milk usually were.

“So you want me to go out and get milk? While it’s pouring outside?” Gabe asked with apathy.

“Yeah.”

The thought of being outside of the basement was a somewhat relieving one - being stuck with the same six people all of the time was grating - so Gabe let out a sigh of defeat.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

 

Gabe ambled down the sidewalk. In either hand was a plastic bag; milk cartons and junk food from the convenience store a couple blocks away filled them. The rain had died down from the last time Gabe checked. It was still raining, however, drops landing against his varsity jacket. He narrowly dodged a sizable puddle, moving his course to the side before soaking his shoes.

An alleyway approached his side. Gabe wouldn’t have thought anything of it, if not for the shouting which came from it.

“You know what, Ryan?” Came a voice. Ah, Gabe knew it was Brendon Urie, both from his distinctive voice and the subject matter of Ryan.

Ryan Ross was the Ryan of subject. The two of them, Ryan and Brendon, were one-half of the original Panic! Squad. The other two were Spencer Smith and Brent Wilson, although Brent was soon replaced by Jon Walker. The (interchanging) four of them formed Panic! At The Disco, the metaphorical offspring of Fall Out Boy.

This ended, however, when Ryan and Jon left. The reasons were unknown, as Brendon was still sensitive about the object. Nowadays Kenny Harris and Dallon Weekes took the place of the past two members

"What?” Ryan retorted. Gabe could now see the two of them. The venom between them was thick, toxic. Brendon had Ryan crowded into one of the brick walls, a yard or so between them.

“I’m glad you left Panic!! With a dysfunctional asshole like you, nothing hap-”

Ryan’s hands clasped around Brendon’s neck, stopping Brendon’s tirade suddenly. Gabe left the bags on the sidewalk, he needed to stop them.

The rain began to pick up at a great pace. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the two men struggled with each other. Gabe came in close proximity to the two before he was hit by a man as lanky as he was.

Gabe, propelled by Brendon, skidded into the other wall of the alley. Gabe could nearly feel how infuriated Brendon was, the way that his fists were clenched to the point that his knuckles were white, the way his breathing seemed too controlled for someone who was just asphyxiated. Gabe, as best as he could, restrained the other man, holding his arms behind his back.

“What the-” Brendon asked. He thrashed his arms around trying to break away from Gabe’s grip: Gabe was used to the erratic tendencies of Pete, so he didn’t let go. Brendon did, however elbow Gabe in the nose, which wasn’t really for the best.

“Hey, hey, you alright?” Gabe asked. He just know noticed the blood trickling down Brendon’s face, the bruises already forming on the smooth skin on his neck.

“Huh? Gabe?” Brendon asked, finally looking at Gabe. Brendon’s eyes had a light blue ring around them. Superpowers must correlate with eyes somehow, Gabe thought. Brendon finally broke free from Gabe’s bonds and raced toward Ryan. Gabe leapt up, brushing off the grime of the street.

Brendon opened his mouth. He let out a silent scream towards Ryan, who then was launched backwards. Gabe wasn’t surprised by this: he knew that Brendon’s superpower was moving things, even people, with sound waves his voice produced.

“Oh, you motherfucker!”

Ryan came at Brendon, Gabe watching from the distance. Gabe knew that he had to do something, had to stop the two of them from quite literally killing each other. Yet, that wasn’t needed.

Ryan disappeared: Gabe guessed it was teleportation, he didn’t know for sure, however. Brendon, after stopping mid-stride, looked back at Gabe. Brendon’s face softened, and he came back to Gabe.

At this point, Gabe was a little shaken up, yeah. He was friends with both of them, after all, genuine, nice friendships. Seeing them beat the shit out of each other definitely wasn’t what he wanted to see. And the milk! He hoped no one had stolen it by now - he didn’t know what someone would want with milk and artificially flavored chips, but whatever. Gabe’s mind had only just begun to reel into the possible irony of coming across Ryan and Brendon on this grocery trip when Brendon nudged into his side, the groceries in hand.

“Hey man, sorry you had to see that,” Brendon said, finished with a chuckle. “We usually try to keep that shit contained, y’know-”

“Usually?” Gabe asked, taking the groceries from the other man’s hold.

“Oh, yeah, but don’t worry about it man,” Brendon said. “We should hang out sometime!”

* * *

 

When Gabe came back to Cobra Inc.™ with dirty jeans and a bruised nose, everyone was understandably upset. Ryland was the first to notice, as he was waiting by the door for Gabe.

“Dude,” Ryland said, taking the bags from Gabe, “what happened?”

“Ran into Brendon and Rossie beating the shit out of each other,” Gabe said as he fixed his previously askew hair into place. “It was so bad that I had to get involved.”

“Really?” Ryland asked. He walked into the kitchen, Gabe followed close behind.

“Yeah. That can’t be healthy for them, y’know?” Now leaning on the counter, Gabe sighed as he rubbed his now slightly swollen nose.

“Healthy for who?” Alex stumbled into the room, tangled dark brown locks and flannel pajama bottoms still in tact from sleep. Gabe retold the story to Alex now, as he brewed a pot of coffee.

“That doesn’t sound right at all,” A splash of the milk which Gabe had brought back was added to the coffee. “I mean, I believe you, but why would Ryan be the aggressor? I feel like it’d be Brendon if anyone.”

“I know, right? But I feel like we need to stop them from doing something worse to each other than they already have,” Ryland spoke up.

“Like counseling,” Said Gabe, “or couples therapy.”

“Well, it’d only be couples therapy if usual couples never dated. Plus, the whole superpower thing, and all,” Alex said. “But I feel you, though. We need someone else’s perspective too. Just so that we have the point of view that’s not one of them.”

“What about Spencer? He’s pretty chill,” Gabe said.

“Yeah, that’d work!” Alex said through a wide smile. So it was set: Gabe and Ryland were to meet with Spencer Smith in order to save two people of the original Panic! Squad from their own demise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok i apologize fully for not updating recently!! i've been busy with school and all but i promise to continue to update on a more consistent schedule, friends!!!! hope u enjoyed this chapter!!!

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic i've ever written, so, y'know... there's that!! if you wanna know more about me, check out my blog arctichurley . tumblr . com B)


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